Francis couldn't stop thinking about what Shigure had said. And that made him all the more anxious for Friday. Usually, I'm a classy bitch and hold out for a few dates. When I was with Arthur, it was five. But he's also kind of a prude. I have no doubt that he's holding out on Alfred, too. But with Hatori…I don't know. Something seems different this time around. Maybe Hatori's looking for a good lay, too. No. I don't think I can rebound with him. Hatori seems like the kind of guy I stick with for a while. But whether or not he's looking for a relationship was still up in the air.
"Francis," Antonio gave him a gentle kick under his desk, "Were you even listening?"
"I'm sorry, cheri," Francis came back to earth, "A lot on my mind. What were you saying?"
"Dios mio," Antonio rolled his eyes, "I love you, Francis, but sometimes you're a major space cadet. Did you know that?"
"I have my moments," Francis laid his head on his desk, "I'm sorry, Antonio. Really and truly, I am."
"What's going on with you?" Antonio kept his voice down to keep interested parties away, "Really, Francis. You're scaring me."
"I didn't get much sleep last night," Francis told him, "It's nothing."
"Quit feeding me the bullshit, Francis," Antonio groaned, "I know better. Talk to me, cariño. You know that's what I'm here for."
Francis thought for a moment or two, debating whether he should come clean or not. It's Antonio. If I tell him no, he'll stop…Right? He let out a heavy sigh, "If I tell you, do you promise not to overreact?"
"Prometo…"
"When I dropped Lili off yesterday," Francis confessed, "I saw Arthur. And I thought I'd be ok with that, but it turns out I wasn't. We talked for half a second and he asked if we could go for a drive. Like we used to."
"Francis," Antonio thought, "Wasn't that when you and Arthur would…?"
"Yeah," he nodded as memories of Francis and Arthur's former sex life came flooding into his head.
"And?" Antonio worried, "What did you say?"
"I left," Francis swallowed the lump in his throat, "I told him no. I didn't want to tell him no because I knew what that meant. But I told him no anyway. Instead, I ate my problems in the form of rocky road at the lake. But that trip wasn't all bad. I made friends with a big dog. Pretty thing, too. He was a good boy."
"You met a dog?" Antonio whined, "I'm so jealous! What kind of dog was it?"
"I don't know," Francis shrugged, "A big dog. He probably came up to my mid thigh. He was a dark gray. And he was cuddly."
"I'M SO JEALOUS!" Antonio groaned.
"Mr. Carriedo," the teacher scolded him, "I don't care if you two have minor chitchat, but if you could keep it down, please?"
"Lo ciento," Antonio apologized, "I got a little heated."
"Yeah," Francis kept his voice down, too, "He didn't have a collar, so chances are, it was a stray."
"Do you think he hangs around the lake?"
"I've never seen him before," Francis told him, "I don't know."
"Hold on a minute," Antonio pointed out, "He was a stray and you didn't take him home with you?"
"He wouldn't let me," Francis assured, "I asked him if he wanted to come home with me, but he took off."
"Aww…" Antonio slumped down in his desk, "That's disheartening."
"I would have," Francis smiled, "He was so sweet. Like he wouldn't hurt a fly. But enough about that. What were you saying before?"
"Friday," Antonio brought things back. "Where should we go?"
"I don't know," Francis thought it over, "Should we stay in town or go out of town?"
"I think in town," Antonio figured, "It'd be simpler. What about that place G took us?"
"Absolutely not," Francis put his foot down, "We're not going clubbing with Hatori and Shigure. That's out of the question. Hatori's seen me drunk and stupid once. He doesn't need to see it again."
"Francis," Natalia turned back around, sticking her nose into Francis and Antonio's conversation where it didn't belong, "I have some follow up questions. Are you free to answer them?"
"Go ahead, Natalia," Francis allowed, "If you get a millimeter out of line, I'm sure Antonio would be more than happy to drop an anonymous tip to a nice police officer."
"Always was a sucker for a man in uniform," Antonio drooled a bit.
"Well," Natalia shifted in her seat, making sure not to make eye contact with Antonio, "I heard about you and Roderich…"
"What about it?" Francis asked.
"Is that fight going to happen?" Natalia wondered, "Because I think Roderich's still running his mouth."
"Mon dieu," Francis groaned, "I didn't hit Elizabeta. She and I are no more than friends. And by the sounds of things, I need to have a word with Roderich."
"Should I text Gil?" Antonio offered.
"No," Francis pulled his phone out of his inner pocket, "I got it handled."
You entered the chat:
You:
TELL RODERICH TO GET OFF MY DICK.
Albino Angel has entered the chat.
Albino Angel:
WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
You:
HE STILL WANTS TO FIGHT ME.
Albino Angel:
WHY DO I HAVE TO DO IT?
You:
BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANY CLASSES WITH HIM.
Gilbert stared at his phone screen, annoyed with who he kept company with. As soon as the bell rang, Gilbert went off to his first real class outside of homeroom. It's not like he wanted to take band, but he thought it'd be an easy grade to keep up since musical talent ran in the family. Besides, he had an unnatural talent with an upright bass (that he begged his band director to switch to a bass guitar, but to no avail). And that meant him being able to occasionally play with the choir and the drama kids. And that meant Elizabeta. But with every good side, there's always a bad. Because where there was Elizabeta in drama, there was Roderich in band…
"Hey, Roderich," Gilbert bit the inside of his cheek. You fucking owe me, Francis, "Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Do you mind?" Roderich brushed him off, carefully tuning his violin, "I got better things to worry about that dealing with you."
"You can knock off the bitchy ass attitude any time," Gilbert wasn't falling for it, "We're family, Roddy. I know you better than anyone else in this room."
"You don't know me biblically," Roderich held back a gag, "Only one person in this room can say that. And don't ever call me Roddy again."
"I don't want to know you biblically," Gilbert shuddered, "And I'm going to call you whatever I damn well please. But this is important."
Roderich caved, "What?"
"It's about Francis…"
"I thought you said it was important," Roderich rolled his eyes, "Francis Bonnefoy is the least of my worries."
"Yet you want to kick the shit out of him," Gilbert pointed out, "You know he never laid a hand on Elizabeta. Nor would he ever. Francis is too pure of a soul for that."
"Pure isn't a word I'd use to describe him," Roderich's blood began to boil.
"But Francis was…" Shit…Don't kill me for this, Francis. Gilbert moved in closer, "Francis was strung out that night. And drunk. He wasn't moving much."
"I'm sure," Roderich backed off, "Look, Gilbert, I'm not stupid. You'll say anything to protect your friends. It's a character flaw of yours. Next time, at least make the story believable."
"You know what?" Gilbert fumed, "Maybe if you asked Elizabeta herself exactly what happened that night, you'd believe me."
"Don't bring her into this," Roderich growled, "She's been through enough."
"She hasn't been through shit!" Gilbert was ready to lunge at his cousin's throat, "Whatever she was crying to you about, it wasn't Francis hitting her. If you paid any attention to her…"
"What did I just say?" Roderich was never a fighter. Everyone knew that. But when it came to Elizabeta, no matter if they were together or otherwise, he'd defend her honor until his last breath. Even if that meant him flailing around like a limp noodle. He knew he wasn't always the most attentive with her, but he hated being called out on it.
"Hold on," Gilbert scanned the bodies in the room, trying his best to ignore Ayame amongst the choir group. Then, there she was, "Lizzie, come here!"
"Oh?" Elizabeta walked over to the almost fight ready to break out at any given moment, "Hello, Gilbert. Did you need something?"
"Why are you so friendly with him all of a sudden?" Roderich wondered.
"Be nice, Roderich," Elizabeta begged him, "Gilbert did nothing wrong."
"He's trying to defend Francis' so-called honor," Roderich couldn't shake the acidity out of his voice, "I'm sorry for making you relive this, but the other night…"
"Francis' so-called honor?" Elizabeta cut him off, glaring a hole through him, "His so-called honor? This is about the other night, isn't it?"
"It…" Roderich may be a bit of a dick, but there was always one thing that could get him to bite his tongue. And that's when his girlfriend got pissed, "It might be."
"It is," Gilbert threw him under the bus, "It totally, one hundred percent, is."
"Look," Elizabeta groaned, "I'm so sick and tired about hearing about that party that I could punch someone. No. Francis never hit me. He was an asshole to me, but he's since apologized for that. Besides, he's been more of a boyfriend to me in the past week than you have in the four years we've been dating and I'm not even sleeping with him!"
"You're not his type," Gilbert assured.
"Gilbert," Elizabeta shooed him away, "Let me talk to Roderich alone please."
"Alright," Gilbert knew better than to get between those two when Elizabeta was angry. Especially these days. She seemed easier to set off than normal. Gilbert left those two to sort out the mess between Francis and Elizabeta and took one of the bass guitars off the rack.
I taught that snot nosed little brat everything he knew about his damn violin, yet he can't see past the head. He has an amazing girlfriend that he doesn't deserve and he doesn't even know it. Why do you stay with him, Lizzie? You deserve so much better. I'm not saying me. Because I know damn well I don't deserve you either. I miss my Mattie…I wonder…Gilbert put his bass down and felt around his pockets for his phone.
"Should you really be texting in class?" Ayame slipped into the seat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.
"Should you really be here at all?" Gilbert shooed him away, "Could you leave me alone, Ayame? I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now."
"What's the matter, Gilbert?" Ayame laid his head on Gilbert's shoulder, "Is it the girl?"
"Elizabeta?" Gilbert wiggled away from him, "No. It's…Something else. Go away."
"Maybe," Ayame dug deeper, not realizing when Gilbert told him to go away, he meant for him to launch himself into the sun, "Maybe it's like what Francis was talking about this morning."
"No!" Gilbert jumped on the defensive, "Again, do you mind? Go be annoying elsewhere. I hear the surface of the sun is nice this time of year."
"So angry," Ayame pouted, "Come on, Gilbert. Tell me."
"I hardly know you, Ayame," Gilbert scooted away, "Aside from your name and the fact that your cousins have my friends under a weird spell."
"Our charms are nowhere near the weird part," Ayame chuckled to himself, "Really, Gilbert…Tell me. I won't tell a soul."
"Go. Away."
"Not until you tell me," Ayame bargained.
Why couldn't I have this damn class with Francis? He's the best one man PR team to ever exist. He could tell Ayame whatever he wanted to know without telling him a word. Gilbert let out an angry sigh, "If I tell you, will you go away?"
"I'll think about it."
And that's probably as good as that's going to get, "It is about my ex. Now, go away."
"What about your ex?" Dammit. Was that not enough?
"He's too far away," Gilbert got up and shut himself in the instrument closet for some peace and quiet, opening his texts.
You:
Gilbert stared at the flashing cursor on his screen. What am I doing? He's probably busy anyway. Besides, this would only make things difficult for both of us. And I don't want to put Mattie through that. He doesn't need to hurt any more than I do. Gilbert closed out his texts, blinking the tears out of his eyes. That was months ago. Why does it still hurt so bad? He walked out of the closet and picked his bass back up, playing emptily with the song in his head. The one that played any time he thought of Matthew Williams. His one and only. Why can't I get over you?
When lunchtime rolled around, Antonio and Francis were the first ones out to Antonio's Mercedes. Or so they thought. Antonio opened the rear doors and found Gilbert passed out in the back seat. Francis checked him quickly for a pulse, making sure not to wake him, "He's alive."
"Good," Antonio sighed out, "That's good to know. I'd hate to have a dead body in my car. That would really kill the resale value."
"Danke, arschloch…" Gilbert groaned, slowly waking back up, "I'm glad to see I mean so much to you."
"Well," Antonio smiled, "Buenos dias, amigo."
"Are you alright, Gilbert?" Francis sat next to him, "It's not often you sneak out of class for a nap."
"I'm fine," Gilbert kept his heartache bottled up, not wanting to deal with it right now, "What are you two doing here?"
"It's my car," Antonio pointed out, "And it's lunchtime. I'm starving."
"Is it lunch already?" Gilbert rubbed his eyes, smearing Francis' good work from this morning, "Good. Can we go somewhere that's got a shit load of carbs?"
"I don't know," Francis mulled it over.
"You have a metabolism like a beast, Francis," Gilbert grumbled, "I don't want to hear it."
"Fine," Francis allowed, "Carbs, it is."
"And just the three of us," Gilbert demanded, "No Shigure and Ayame."
"Is Hatori ok?" Francis hoped.
"No."
"Fine…"
"Are you really ok, Gilbert?" Antonio worried, "You look like you're about to start drinking bleach."
"I got to thinking about Mattie earlier," Gilbert confessed, "And it just…It sucked, you know?"
"What brought that on?" Francis shut the back door while Antonio jumped in the driver's seat.
"You're in the clear with Roderich, Francis," Gilbert laid his head on the window, "At least I think so. Lizzie was ready to knock some shit into Roderich when I last saw them, so I'm pretty sure you're in the clear."
"Don't avoid the question," Francis reiterated, "What made you think about Matthieu?"
"I saw Roderich with Lizzie," Gilbert explained, "And I know things weren't always perfect with Mattie and me, but I still miss having him around. You were right, Francis. I'm not over him. And I don't think I will be for quite some time. And having Ayame there, trying to dig shit up wasn't helping."
"What would Ayame be doing in the band room?" Antonio asked.
"They've had to combine the band and the choir classes. Fucking budget cuts."
"You'd think that with all the tuition money they rake in," Francis assumed, "they wouldn't have any budgeting problems."
"They probably save that so all the teachers could get blasted at the end of the year," Gilbert figured, "Not that I'm too upset about that."
"Why not?" Francis asked, noticing the sudden grin on Gilbert's sad, sorry face, "What's that all about?"
"Do you know where they get their booze from?" Gilbert beamed, "The good shit that'll fuck them up sideways?"
"Can't say that I do…" Francis gave him a look. Then, things suddenly clicked in his head, "You get a fucking commission from that, don't you?"
"It's good to be Dave's sugar baby," Gilbert started feeling a little better, "It's so good to be Dave's sugar baby."
"Dios mio…" Antonio prayed, "Where do I get in on that?"
"No," Gilbert shot him down, "I know it's good to be Dave's sugar baby, but I'm already in too deep. You don't need to get in on this at all. I love you too much, Antonio. Trust me. It's a lot of clawing your way to the top. I don't want you in Ivan's position."
"Then, how do you explain you?"
"He likes me," Gilbert pointed out, "I don't know why. He just does. He said there was something about me. He said it was because I look exotic. I guess being born albino has its perks."
"Except for when you have to go out in the sun," Francis teased.
"That's why I only work at night," Gilbert retaliated, "Dave doesn't like me working during the day unless I'm getting new clients. But if I'm running for him, he gets other people to do it during the day."
"That's sweet of him," Antonio awed, pulling into an Italian restaurant that would serve as the inducer of the food coma Gilbert so desperately needed. It used to be a regular date spot for Antonio and Lovino. Why make him suffer alone?
And Gilbert wasn't holding back. The only time he had seen so much pasta in one place was when Antonio made a batch of brownies and Feliciano got a combination of excited and curious. He ate the whole thing before anyone had the chance to stop him. Ludwig couldn't stuff enough pasta down his throat. But nevertheless, Gilbert stuffed his face faster than Feliciano did with the munchies. Anything to make him feel numb and go into the most wonderful food coma.
"You might want to slow down, Gil," Antonio teased him, "Francis is the one with the weird metabolism, not you."
"Who am I saving myself for?" Gilbert mumbled through his third plate of ziti, "Does this place have cannoli, too? I could stand something sweet later."
"Gilbert," Francis tried stopping him, but like he had said earlier, Gilbert was a biter. Getting near his mouth meant a severed finger, "Food's not going to fill the maple leaf shaped hole in your heart."
"You eat your problems more than anyone here," Gilbert retaliated, "I don't want to hear it."
"Not true," Francis pointed out, "If I remember correctly, when Antonio and…"
Francis froze. Not because he was about to bring up Antonio and Lovino's relationship, but because of the Turkish man who walked in with Lovino on his hip. Oh merde…Gilbert scoffed at him, "What? Cat got your tongue, Francis? Or are you admitting defeat?"
"No," Francis broke into a cold sweat, "We need to go. We need to go now."
"Why?" Antonio wondered, "I feel like we just sat down. And now that you mention it, churros do sound really good right now."
"Then, let's go get some," Francis suggested, nudging Gilbert under the table.
"Right now?" Antonio squeaked, blissfully unaware of who just walked in, "Hell yeah! I'm always down for churros!"
"Alright," Gilbert got up, catching Francis' mental telepathy. There's only room for one mess at a time and I'm the selfish prick taking that up. We don't need Antonio's asshole switch getting flipped today.
"Yay!" No one wanted to see that smile go away. Not when it meant Antonio scoring churros. Francis got Gilbert to take Antonio outside, making sure there was no aftermath to deal with. Francis was good, but he wasn't property damage good.
"Hi, Francis," Sadik greeted him with Lovino standing by him quietly, "Don't you usually travel in packs?"
"Hello, Sadik," Francis plastered a fake smile on his face, "Gilbert and Antonio went for churros. It's just me."
"Aww…" Sadik whined, "I was hoping to see at least Antonio. He's always fun."
Francis got a decent look at Lovino out of the corner of his eye. Huh…You're awfully quiet, aren't you? When you and Antonio were still together, Lovino, you would never shut up. Not to mention, you were never one for an inside voice. What has you so meek and mild now? Francis got a strange feeling in his stomach that he didn't like, "He is. I'll give you that. But I need to be going. I was just on my way to the bathroom."
"Alright," Sadik let him go, "Always a pleasure, Francis."
"You, too," Francis gave him one last smile and went into the bathroom. And now, we wait.
Bzzz…
Albino Angel has sent you a message.
Albino Angel:
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?
You:
BATHROOM. I'LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE.
As Francis suspected, Lovino came into the bathroom, looking like a lost puppy, "Hello, Lovino."
"What do you want?" Lovino snapped in typical Lovino fashion. There you are…You had me worried.
"Nothing," Francis went to wash his hands, "I didn't say a word. But since I have you here…"
"No," Lovino stopped him, "Don't think we're pals, Francis. We're far from it."
"Alright," Francis let it go, "But you do know that if you need…"
"Fuck off!" Lovino growled, his voice suddenly thick. Is he…crying?
"Lovino…" Francis put a hand on his shoulder, immediately making Lovino wince. That's what I was afraid of, "Lovino…"
"I'm sorry," Lovino apologized, shaking under Francis' touch, "I'm so sorry. I'll stop. I promise."
"Lovino…" Francis spoke softer, "Look at me."
"I…" Lovino choked out, "I don't want to…"
"Alright," Francis let it go, "Are you ok?"
"Why the fuck would you ask me something like that?!" Lovino freaked, "It's not like you're my fucking mother! Get off my ass!"
"Lovino…" Francis wrapped his arms around him, trying to steady his shaking, "Look at me."
With big, tear-filled eyes, Lovino did as he was told, "Why?"
Francis ran his thumb under his eye, wiping off what felt like a setting powder. What was underneath was darker than what Francis hoped to see, "Lovino, how long has this been going on?"
"Nothing's going on," Lovino shook Francis off, "Why do you feel like you need to save everybody, Francis? You can't. You won't. Why bother trying? Especially on a lost cause like me?"
"You're not a lost cause," Francis picked his chin up, "Did Sadik do that to you?"
"No," Lovino answered quickly. Too quickly, "I slipped coming out of bed and I hit my eye on my bedpost. If you tell anyone about this, I'll kick your ass!"
"I won't," Francis promised, "But if you need someone to talk to, Lovino, you know you can come to me. You may be a big mouthed little brat, but you were once our big mouthed little brat…"
"I didn't ask for you to care," Lovino rolled his eyes and pulled himself together, "Do you mind? You act like I didn't see Gilbert and Antonio with you. Just you, my ass…Go back to them and leave me alone."
Oh, Lovino…What have you gotten yourself into? Francis did all he could to keep himself from breaking down. His heart broke for Lovino. And he knew damn well he was lying. But that would mean him admitting to himself that something was going on, "Alright, Lovino. My offer still stands."
"Hey…" Lovino leaned against the bathroom door, "Francis?"
"Yes?"
"Could you…" Lovino quivered, "Could you not tell anyone about this? I'd hate for people to talk."
"Of course," Francis nodded, "Between us."
Francis knew exactly what he meant. Don't tell Antonio. Definitely don't tell Antonio. Especially after the other night. Sadik was always a button pusher and after he got with Lovino, Antonio was his favorite target. Francis left the bathrooms shortly after Lovino did, so he didn't draw attention to himself. All he wanted to do was take Lovino with them and get him away from Sadik. The sooner, the better. God only knows what he was hiding.
When Francis got back to the car, he bit the inside of his cheek. Don't start crying. Whatever you do, Francis Bonnefoy, don't you start crying. Not in front of them, "Churros?"
"Yes, please!" Antonio's smile lit up the world. And it somewhat eased the pain in Francis' heart, "You alright, Francis? You took an eternity."
"It only felt like an eternity," Gilbert took over, "because you have a problem, Antonio. I've never seen someone put away churros like you do."
"But they're so good," Antonio moaned, "And with a good, thick hot chocolate…Mmmm…"
"Would you like a moment alone?" Gilbert teased.
"Might need a cold shower," Antonio grabbed a lighter out of the center console, lighting the end of his cigarette.
Oh, Antonio…I know Lovino makes you hurt, but what you don't realize is how badly he's hurting. In more ways than one. No amount of deep-fried sweet dough would make Francis feel better. But he couldn't let Antonio see him sweat. Francis made Lovino a promise and he intended to keep it. For the time being anyway. Until things could be safer for him. The last thing he wanted was for Lovino to fall out of bed again.
After watching Antonio put away churros that were at least a yard long each, the three of them had gone back to class. Antonio had a literature class after lunch. And who better for him to run into than his date for Friday night? It was enough to bring an even bigger smile to his face than the churros. Damn, Shigure…You're pretty. And in a few days, you were going to be mine. If I have my way. There's only one way to get over Lovi. And I think you might be it.
"Hi there," Shigure took the empty desk next to Antonio's, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
"I think I saw you at my table this morning," Antonio giggled.
"Hey," Shigure asked, "Do you think you could do me a favor, Antonio?"
"Sure," Antonio gave him a look, "What's that?"
"Can I see your homework?" Shigure turned his charm up, "Just because I write it doesn't mean I understand someone else's."
"Fine," Antonio allowed, giving him his homework, "Are you checking your own answers against mine?"
"Sure," Shigure furiously wrote down Antonio's answers, "Checking. Let's go with that."
"You're really just copying mine?" Antonio groaned, "Come on, Shigure. At least change the wording."
"Of course," Shigure didn't break his concentration, "It's not the first time I've done this, Antonio. I'm not stupid. Just a little slow in the comprehension department. My god, you really can pick this shit apart, can't you?"
"What can I say?" Antonio shrugged, "I'm more than just a pretty face."
"Clearly," Shigure applauded, giving Antonio his homework back, "Can I ask you something?"
"Other than to cheat off me?" Antonio teased, "Sure. What's up?"
"Do you think you could read something over for me?" Shigure requested, "I just finished a story and I'm feeling a little iffy about it. I'm too close to it, so it'd be really nice to get an outsider's opinion on it."
"And I'm that opinionated outsider?"
"I don't see why not," Shigure bit his lip, "Please?"
"Sure," Antonio nodded, "I'll do it. That's no problem. What am I reading?"
"Well," Shigure told him, "It's at my place. Do you think you could come by after school?"
"Yeah," Antonio bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from squealing. Jumping back on the horse already? Good for you, Antonio, "That's no problem. Where is your place?"
"The nice apartment building downtown," Shigure directed him, "Do you want me write down the address?"
"That's probably a good idea," Antonio dug around his backpack for a notebook, but instead, Shigure grabbed Antonio's arm and started writing down his address in the palm of his hand, "I mean, I was just going to get a notebook."
"This was quicker," Shigure finished, rolling up his sleeve and showing off the various musings scribbled on his arms, "This is what happens when I get an idea, but I don't have any paper."
"I do that, too!" Antonio pulled his sleeve up, showing off his arm, "This is what happens when I get bored in class."
"These are really neat," Shigure traced his fingers over what looked like a pair of koi fish swimming on Antonio's arm, "You have quite a talent, Antonio."
"Thanks," Antonio blushed a bit, "My ex-boyfriend's grandpa taught me some things and I just kind of kept going."
"You make him proud," Shigure approved.
"Here," Antonio got one of his pens, "Give me your arm."
"What?" Shigure wasn't understanding quite what he was trying to get at, "What do you need my arm for?"
"You wrote all over mine," Antonio insisted, "Seriously, Shigure, give me your arm."
"Ok…?" Shigure trusted him. Somewhat, "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," Antonio thought, "Something, I'm sure. Any requests?"
"And stifle your genius?" Shigure let him go, "Absolutely not. Go ahead."
"Alright," Antonio started a rough sketch of an ivy, wrapping it around Shigure's arm. I can't just leave it like that. Off the ivy, he sketched out where a few irises would come out. Do I have any colored pens? I don't know. It's been a while since I've actually drawn anything. I don't want to screw this up.
All the while Antonio worked on his drawing, Shigure just sat back and watched, completely mesmerized. You really are quite a talent, Antonio. I bet I could ask him to do a cover for me. At least the artwork. If I don't decide to go with a photo. Every little line that went into Shigure's skin made his fingers twitch. He tried his hardest to stay completely still. Heaven forbid he jerked too hard and ruined all of Antonio's hard work.
Antonio went back to fleshing out his drawing some more. Thicker lines in places they needed to be. Thinner lines where they needed to be. Little splashes of green and purple where it called for it. Against Shigure's pale forearm, Antonio couldn't help but admire his good work. Or the canvas it was on. Shigure's got strong arms. I wonder what the rest of him looks like…
"There," Antonio threw his pens back in his bag, "All done."
"This really is something else, Antonio," Shigure gushed, "Maybe I should get this put in a little more permanently."
"Are you thinking about a tattoo?" Antonio's ear perked up. He had always wanted to get one, but Lovino didn't like them. He always told Antonio that his skin was so flawless, he didn't want it sullied with tattoos.
"I don't think I could go through with it," Shigure admitted, "That's too much pain at one time."
"You could always go in sessions," Antonio suggested, "That way, it's not all at once. And it all depends on where you get it. There are places where you hardly feel a thing. Depends on how thick the skin is in that spot."
"You sound like a voice of experience," Shigure wondered, "Do you have any?"
"No," Antonio shook his head, "I might one day."
Ring, ring.
"Well," Shigure got up from his desk, "I'll see you after school then?"
"It's a date."
